The Elvis of God

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. . . and the Glam Rock

A child playing
with wildfire rebellion
The tailor who fits you up
swiftly twisting
sweet venom on the tongue
with chemical smoke rising
In the ghetto of the soul
a toxic river flowing
Body and spirit
within the echo of a scream
a tangled web
of a deceptive dream
For heaven’s sake
sleepwalkers awake
Is it ever too late
to make a break?
Who’s pulling the strings?
Can you hear the truth
when the Elvis of God sings?

In the multi-story ruins
of a malingering infection
surrounded like a crime scene
with the yellow tape
of a quarantine inspection
street kids asleep
in the cupboards
of a ground floor kitchen
Hollowed out
by the amphetamines of sin
Stripped bare in despair
Empty but for the hot breath
of a nightmare dragon
masticating cold death
and drooling over
the financial section
of yesterday’s paper
Just another Gary Glitter
doing hard time
in the grime of his crime
Liking too much
a taste in the waste
of lawless power
with dark secrets to savour
The attraction
but a distraction
from the air raids of murder
like a childhood in Syria
with nowhere to shelter
Helter Skelter
in the desert sand
I have good reason to believe
we will not all be received
… in Graceland

As the crafty shiver
without a glimmer
the meek discrete
bath in rivers of pure heat
To taste the living waters
complete in silence sweet
Holding the peace
unsurpassable
Withholding the Tweet
Pouring the milk
Spreading the honey
Knowing the glow
from the living heart
of mindfulness
A Meet & Greet
at Fanclub Elvis
Body soul and spirit
with the ever present
The past and future seen
from rolling pastures of green
A gentle prod
the staff and the rod
Yet free to be led
to Graceland Tennessee
… by the Elvis of God

A head anointed
with the oil of bad vice
in a land of plenty
paying the famine price
A forsaken Johnny Rotten
in a world of confusion
and twisted complication
Seeking the Google
for a peace of direction
from the Sid Suspicious
of superstition
and social media mystic
Make no mistake punk
I’m no girlfriend Nancy
from the edge of reality
Spawned and torn
by the sorcerer apprenticed
to a religion of hypocrisy
We just can’t go on together
clenching a fist
and shaking the pelvis
with suspicious minds
I’m now as free as can be
for not even King Vulture
can soar with the Elvis
to the highly sublime
beyond space and time
Like blue suede shoes
it’s something you choose
Or do you really think
you got something to lose?
With joyful abundance
the Elvis of God
has the power to save us
from singing the blues

To be stepped on
by some Steppenwolf
with a wooden heart
A master dish licker
who don’t love you tender
Is it time
to step up to the plate?
It’s a decision
The truth is simple
and straight
manifolding in all directions
throughout every dimension
To break the lock
to beat the clock
The Elvis of God delivers
Can you hear him knock?
He will shake
rattle ‘n’ roll
your jailhouse rock

At the midnight stroke
from an endless void
a howling lycanthrope
with the rebel yell
of a rabid Billy Idol
Nothing but a hound dog
going for the throat
Behind the bling of pride
is no place to hide
As the skin deep
feel goods
devoid of all hope
are building a fence
to keep up the pretence
behind a fearful mask
When it comes down
to the final test
will you know the Elvis?

Slave traders
of big business
advertising
the need for greed
with weight loss insultants
The social engineering
tooling you in the groove
with the new and improved
approved consumer religion
Is there something missing
from the whole
of Man’s cyber obsession?
As all humanity awaits
the uploading
of a selfie ascension
like a staged kiss
at a Royal Wedding
Is there an algorithm grand?
Even Siri knows
that Mankind is in need
of a helping hand
The machine senses
a dysfunction
It detects an anomaly odd
with no protocol
for correction
till it is reprogrammed
… by the Elvis of God

The High Priest
of Intravenous Anarchy
and Elvis wannabe
was calling me astray
Babylonian dreaming
on such a winter’s day
Stopped into a church
along the way
As I got down on my knees
I took a fortune cookie
from the collection tray
A note within to say …
“The Elvis of God
has left the building.
But finish your prayer.
You are never just talking
to thin air.
For the Elvis
is ever listening
and always he is near.”

Now to the one and only
most high host
with burning desire
The Big Daddy
the Elvis of God
and the ‘Jerry Lee Lewis’
of goodness & graciousness
like a great pillar of fire

~ by david redpath © 2018

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‘Christ Served by the Angels’
~ by Jacques Stella

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‘Crucifixion’ ~ by Salvador Dali

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‘The Pietà’ ~ by Michelangelo

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PhotoArt:
David Redpath © 2018

28 thoughts on “The Elvis of God”

    1. Glad you liked it Bojana.
      Many of my friends donned the Safety Pin.
      At the time of ‘Never Mind the Bollocks’ ,
      from what I remember, I was too laid back
      and mellow yellow. I couldn’t see the
      sense in ripping up a perfectly good pair
      of jeans just to stitch it up with safety pins?
      But I did love the rage in the “music”.
      God save the Queen …

      Liked by 2 people

    1. Thanks Mia.
      Lynyrd Skynyrd once
      reminded me …
      ‘Mama told me when I was young …’
      “Come sit beside me, my only son
      And listen closely to what I say
      And if you do this it’ll help you some sunny day
      … be a simple kind of man
      Oh, be something you love and understand.
      Baby be a simple kind of man.
      Oh, won’t you do this for me, son, if you can.”

      Liked by 1 person

  1. Excellent poem, David.

    I admire you bringing in so many great legends of music.

    The Elvis of God- an interesting title.

    I remember watching a documentary about Elvis once and it said the favourite type of music he personally enjoyed singing was Gospel music.

    Then I heard another story about Elvis signing a couple of autographs for a pair of giggling schoolgirls.

    Elvis asked them, “You’re pretty excited to get these autographs eh, girls?.”

    “That’s right,” one of the girls gushed, “because you’re the King.”

    “No,” Elvis shook his head, “I am not the King. Jesus is the King. Remember that, girls.”

    So in spite of many shortcomings in his personal life, Elvis was a believer.

    By God’s grace, may he be up in Heaven singing a song he did so beautifully, “In my Father’s house are many mansions.”

    Liked by 4 people

    1. I’m sure he is . . .
      where there is peace
      in the valley, and no
      crying in the chapel.
      Thanks Chris for the
      illuminating Elvis info.

      An Australian country singer once
      told me how he went to Nashville
      just to meet Johnny Cash. He said,
      “Johnny, I’m your biggest fan, and
      I know all your songs.”
      Johnny Cash just looked him in the
      eye and said,
      “But son, do you know Jesus?”
      He soon become a Gospel singer,
      Country and Western style.

      Liked by 4 people

  2. Your poetry is so interesting and relevant of today’s world. This one, weaving rock and roll with religion, yet somehow, for me, strongly reflects the darkness. I wonder what your poem would be like if it had to reflect only the light. Seeing the light is the challenge we have in our today world, but nevertheless it is there.
    You craft your thoughts and words together, beautifully.
    Keep on ‘poeming’ and send us messages of light and love often.

    Liked by 4 people

    1. The light shines into the darkness.
      I try to write from my own
      experiences, dialed down
      a notch or two … believe me.
      Thanks for reading,
      and your observations.
      My wife agrees with you completely.
      Hope, faith, and love
      all the way to Durban.

      Liked by 2 people

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